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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170369">help, my boyfriend has no sex drive!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyuuppi/pseuds/kyuuppi'>kyuuppi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, College AU, Creampie, Cum Eating, Cumplay, Exhibitionism, Experienced reader, F/M, Female Reader, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, NSFW, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Streamer Kenma, Streamer Kozume Kenma, Vaginal Fingering, Virginity, Voyeurism, college kenma, submissive Kenma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:27:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyuuppi/pseuds/kyuuppi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series in which your boyfriend, Kozume Kenma, is a virgin with zero sex drive and you do your best to change that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kozume Kenma/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>320</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kozume Kenma is, undoubtedly, the best boyfriend you have ever had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is loyal, understanding, observant, and does what he can to make you happy. Under normal circumstances the two of you are an unlikely pair. You are known to be outgoing, energetic, and more likely to be at a party than home playing video games. Kenma is quite the opposite—a reserved, occasionally shy person who prefers to expend his energy on a Switch than on the dancefloor. The two of you met on campus, through your mutual friend Kuroo. The meeting was meant to be casual, Kuroo hoping the two closest people in his life can get along together so that he doesn’t have to divide up his time between you. He never expected anything special to come from it, no one did. The two of you were practically opposites...but opposites attract, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Against all odds, you and Kenma fell in love and, through mutual dedication to the relationship and adoration for each other, you made it work despite your differences. The two of you learned to not only respect each other but to also use your contrasting personalities to strengthen one another. Kenma, as an observant and critical person, helps you calm down in your most emotional moments and think things through logically before making a decision. Likewise, you use your ambitious and emotional nature to push Kenma to do the things he really wants to do but fears will not succeed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You truly believe Kozume Kenma is the perfect boyfriend for you…except for one very important thing:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your boyfriend has no sex drive whatsoever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While you don’t consider yourself a sex </span>
  <em>
    <span>addict</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you like to think you have a healthy—well, maybe a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little </span>
  </em>
  <span>more than healthy—libido. In the past, it has never been a problem. Your ex-boyfriends, regardless of whether it was good or not, always made it clear when they wanted to have sex and it was something that generally happened relatively quickly in the relationship. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Kenma though...it has been nearly a year and he has never </span>
  <em>
    <span>once </span>
  </em>
  <span>shown even a </span>
  <em>
    <span>slight </span>
  </em>
  <span>interest in anything relatively sexual. You had already expected him to be a virgin; he told you early on in your relationship that you were his first girlfriend aside from a few insignificant relationships in middle and high school. You were okay with it—you even found it kind of hot to be honest. The chance to corrupt your own innocent little virgin was a tempting offer, but only when he was ready, of course. You were willing to wait as long as he needed but you had assumed he’d at least have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> interest by now. He plays video games with busty, hyper-sexualized female characters all the time, after all. Surely he’d fantasized about it a few times, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even in the months of living together, you had never once found an incriminating hentai manga, nude magazine, or even an ero game. You had even shamefully used the excuse of “cleaning” to snoop around his belongings a few times when he was away at class and yet you found absolutely no signs of Kenma’s wank bank anywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first you never pressured him. A few messy past relationships had taught you the value of taking things slowly and that the longer the wait often resulted in the greater the reward...but a college-aged girl with an insanely attractive boyfriend has only </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> much patience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had hinted at it a few (read: a lot of) times but the result was always the same obliviousness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes you would try giving him your sultriest gaze over dinner—to which he’d ask if he had something on his face. Other times you would cuddle up to him extra close on the couch, softly caressing his thigh, while you two watched Netflix—in which case he’d ask if you were cold and offer to get an extra blanket. You had even worn your sexiest, silky nightgowns to bed before, only for him to lay down and play </span>
  <em>
    <span>Animal Crossing </span>
  </em>
  <span>all night. Was Isabelle really that much more interesting than your half-naked body?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After several months of this you were starting to think you were dating a goddamn </span>
  <em>
    <span>monk</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite his notoriously observant personality, subtleties obviously did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>work on Kenma when it came to sex—which is why you’ve devised a new strategy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ll have to show him what he’s missing out on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You purposefully chose a Thursday to put your plan in action. Thursdays were Kenma’s last day of classes for the week and not a part of his strict, three days a week streaming schedule. He always comes home around 7PM, mentally exhausted from a long day of university and eager to destress...and you can think of </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite a few methods of destressing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so you find yourself impatiently seated on you and Kenma’s shared apartment couch Thursday night, dressed up in a pair of lounge mini shorts and a sweatshirt so you look a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> sexy but not suspiciously so. Last night you pulled out all the stops on your skincare routine, using your best masks and moisturizers so that your skin can feel extra supple and soft for today. You had already made dinner, a simple but satisfying vegetable curry with rice, and now you only have to sit idly, anxiously eyeing the clock and counting down the seconds for him to arrive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the apartment door finally opens it is slightly later than usual, nearly half past seven, but you figured he could have stayed late to speak to a professor caught up by a particularly pushy friend (i.e. Kuroo). Nonetheless, you rise from the sofa with a giddy grin and practically skip over to your boyfriend as he announces his return, dropping his black messenger back in its usual spot and slipping off his shoes to slide into a pair of indoor sandals. You notice a black plastic bag in his hand but you pay it no mind, all but jumping into his arms as you excitedly greet him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome back, KenKen~” you sing-song.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can tell by his momentary pause and confused expression that he knows something is slightly off about your overly cheerful behavior but after a moment he seems to decide to let it go and gently accepts your hug and peck to his cheek. When you two pull apart he sniffs the air before a small frown tugs at his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, is that curry?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re slightly put off by his unhappy expression but you smile nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep! I decided to make us dinner instead of take-out for once—it’s really good, I promise. Come on, let’s get a bowl—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You reach for his thin wrist to tug him towards the kitchen but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he gently places his other hand over yours on his wrist, his brows slightly pinched together in something akin to guilt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I should have texted you earlier but I forgot...my stream starts soon so I don’t have time to eat right now. I promise I’ll have some afterwards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blink dumbly for a moment, his words making little sense in your head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...stream?” you parrot, “b-but today is Thursday,” your eyes briefly flicker to the Minecraft themed calendar (a gift from one of his fans) pinned to the wall by the door just to make sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today is the release for a new game,” he pulls a small plastic case from the black bag you had all but forgotten about earlier as evidence, the bright red </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nintendo</span>
  </em>
  <span> logo on the package seeming to mock you in the dim hallway lighting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promised my followers I would stream it the day it came out,” he finishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Internally, you want to rip your own hair out. All that meticulous planning only for another day of </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>getting dicked down by your hot gamer boyfriend. Externally, you offer your best customer service smile and take a polite step back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No worries, KenKen. I’ll just put the leftovers away.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slip away and into the kitchen before you can make a fool of yourself and have Kenma feeling guilty about something he didn’t even do on purpose. As you stir the rapidly cooling pot of curry on the stove you can hear Kenma making his way to the extra room he uses as an office and setting up for his stream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is while you’re carefully pouring the contents of the pot into a TupperWare container that an idea strikes you that has you grinning to yourself like a mad man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just because </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kodzuken </span>
  </em>
  <span>is streaming doesn’t mean you can’t play with Kenma a bit…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time you finish putting the leftovers away and make your way across the apartment to his door, you can hear Kenma has already finished his usual short introduction and is now explaining something about the game to his viewers. He rarely speaks much in his streams but you suppose he has more to say today since it’s an anticipated new release. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You quietly push open the door to slip inside, careful not to make any noises that could be picked up by his microphone. He glances at you in question the second you open the door but quickly looks back to the screen before the viewers can think anything of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although you generally try to leave Kenma alone when he’s busy with a livestream, you are a person who craves affection and it’s not uncommon for you to slip in during his streams to sit in the small couch to the side or even on the floor by his chair, resting your head in his lap where the cameras can’t see. Naturally, he assumes this is one of those times and even rolls back a bit from his desk to give you room in case you want to sit between his legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You would normally be touched by the small, thoughtful gesture but your mind is preoccupied with more </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting</span>
  </em>
  <span> things at the moment.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You drop to your knees from where you stood at the door and crawl the few paces to Kenma’s side to avoid being in the frame of the camera. You slip in front of his legs, now almost completely under his desk, and rest your chin on his knees. You look up at him with wide, deceptively innocent eyes that have him offering a tiny smile. The game he’s playing seems to only require one hand because he easily slips the other under the desk to softly card through your hair and pet your head like the cats he’s always been so fond of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stay like this a few minutes, tactically waiting for Kenma to forget about your presence, subconsciously stroking your head while his other hand taps furiously at the keyboard. He seems to be fond of a particular character in the series and occasionally offers tips on how to play her or answers fans’ questions in the chat that catch his eye. He is halfway through explaining her ultimate attack combo when you decide to make your move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, as not to catch Kenma’s eye, shift your hands from the ground to his knees, pausing for a moment before ever so softly trailing up his thighs. He seems sufficiently distracted by his game and either doesn’t notice your moments or doesn’t think anything of them. When your hands reach his hips, you expertly hook the tips of your fingers under the thick waistband of his black sweatpants and underwear, gingerly tugging them off his hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve managed to pull his joggers only halfway down when a startled hand shoots out to grasp your shoulder, halting your movements. You raise your head to meet his gaze only to find him staring at you with wide, mildly terrified and confused eyes. He glances at you for only a few seconds before his eyes dart back up to his screen, trying not to act suspiciously in front of the thousands of people currently watching him on camera. Even when he’s looking away from you, you see the silent but frantic question clouding his eyes, the unspoken </span>
  <em>
    <span>“what are you doing?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You answer with another sharp tug at his waistband, finally revealing his soft cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small gasp escapes Kenma’s lips but he seems to expertly play it off as a response to whatever is happening in game. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gently wrap your fingers around the warm flesh, feeling his thigh tense beneath the other hand you press against him to keep your balance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you slowly stroke him, feeling as he steadily hardens in your hand, you can’t help but to admire it. Kenma’s cock, just like the rest of him, is very pretty. The pale skin is smooth with only a few prominent veins and flushed a soft pink color that leads up to his reddened tip, a few drops of precum already bubbling at the top. His size is average, maybe a little extra girthy, but the bulbous tip has something hot brewing in your insides as you imagine how it would feel stretching open the tight ring of your entrance for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You duck your head forward to place an experimental, appreciative kiss against the head that has Kenma’s breath audibly escaping his lungs and his hand shifting from your shoulder to clutch at your hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Kodzu is reacting more than usual today.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Tht game must b rlly fun!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes skim the chatroom quickly, fighting with every cell in his being against the urge to moan when your tongue swipes at the clear liquid steadily rolling down his tip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, It’s...fun. I recommend it,” he mumbles into the mic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite it only being a few minutes of stimulation, Kenma’s cock is leaky, like a faucet. Thin, sticky rivlets of precum run down the tip, along the shaft, and onto your hand still diligently stroking him, making the glide slightly smoother. You collect it on your tongue before you swallow it down and move your attention down his shaft. You note the taste is salty, slightly bitter, but you don’t hate it. The tip of your tongue softly grazes his balls—eliciting a full body flinch from the boy—before trailing up along the bottom vein all the way up until you reach the small space under his head where your tongue slightly catches before moving down to repeat the motion. Your hot tongue leaves a trail of saliva that rapidly cools in the open air and sends shivers down his spine as he tries to force his shaky fingers to continue hitting combos. The health bar of his character is lower than it should be for a first round but, for once, he can’t find it in himself to care about winning when he’s just trying not to let everyone watching him know he’s getting his dick played with for the very first time by his girlfriend right now. </span>
</p><p><span>As if your sole purpose in life is to make his</span> <span>life </span><strike><span>and dick</span></strike><span> harder, you suddenly take him into your warm mouth, easing down until he hits something in the back of your throat that has you constricting and his vision blinded with stars for a moment. </span></p><p>
  <span>“F-fuck…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It slips before he can think to stop it but luckily it seems to somehow be perfectly in-sync with the ultimate attack the enemy player just landed on his character. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Whoa! I’ve nevr heard Kodzuken curse before—he must be really into it!’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You can’t help but to giggle at his uncharacteristic slip-up, the vibrations of your throat causing his previously loose grip on your locks to tighten, making your scalp sting lightly as you begin to bob your head at a moderate pace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma is not even sure his fingers are on the right keys anymore as he watches his character fumble around the screen with blurred vision. He bites at his lip to prevent any further sounds from slipping out, a look easily mistaken for deep concentration by his adoring fans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel him beginning to throb in your mouth, his ample precum mixing with your saliva until the mess is overflowing, slipping past your lips and down his balls until it falls into small droplets on the leather of his expensive gaming chair. You quicken your pace, steeling yourself with both hands on his thighs as focus on taking him into the hilt with every downwards movement of your head. His lungs burn with a deadly mixture of excitement, fear, and anticipation. His pants are soft though, too quiet to be picked up by the microphone, and he vaguely recognized the timer on the corner of the screen indicating the round is coming to a close—not that he knows who is even really winning at this point. His fingers more furiously against the keyboard, if only to maintain the guise of normalcy while you suck onto him harshly until your cheeks hollow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s sweating, trembling, and the pressure in the pit of his stomach is vaguely familiar but completely foreign in its intensity. He already knows he’s about to experience an orgasm stronger than anything he’s ever felt before and that both scares and excites him further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tipping point comes when your teeth accidentally graze against his shaft on an uptake, the sensation new and unexpected and sending him hurdling over the edge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sharp exhale, his grip on your hair tightens and pushes your head down until your nose is smooshed into the dark curls at his base as he releases deep down your throat. You don’t mind—you willingly accept everything he gives you and gently move your tongue around his twitching length while his spurts hit the back of your throat. His vision trips back and forth for a few seconds between blinding white and a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors while his ears ring with his own throbbing heartbeat before he gradually calms down. He quickly blinks away the pressure in his skull that threatens tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As his vision clears he recognizes the match has ended and the chat on his second monitor is zooming by with a countless messages, many of which are in all caps. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘OMG THAT LAST COMBO’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Bro theres no way he’s not cheating…’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘HOLY SHIT, KODZU IS A GOD’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Blearily, he realizes he has somehow won, the golden </span>
  <em>
    <span>“victory” </span>
  </em>
  <span>plastered over the game confirming as much. A small, tired smile tugs at his lips in both satisfaction at the unexpected win and the afterglow of the best orgasm he has ever had. His clammy hand releases your head to return to his mouse, allowing you to slowly pull off of his now softened and sticky dick. He chances a glance down at you only to see your dark, lidded eyes already shining back at him, a small dribble of his cum slipping from your mouth to your chin. Your gaze shifts to something slightly sinister when you notice where his attention is and you poke your tongue out to languidly swipe at the white liquid on your lips, a sight that has him feeling awfully lightheaded and a small warmth returning to his belly. He quickly looks away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s enough for today...thank you all for coming, see you tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Usually Kenma would stick around for a few minutes to answer questions or discuss new merch in his shop but this time he ends the stream barely after the words have left his lips and his computer is shut down in record time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly tucks himself back into his pants while you shift to rise from your achy knees. Before you can stand, Kenma is already pulling at your arms, allowing you to support your weight on him as your legs wobble from their temporary numbness. You turn your attention to him slyly as he helps walk you the two steps to the loveseat in the corner of the room, sitting you both down next to each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” you practically sing, “how was it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma’s face is slightly flushed but he meets your gaze with his usual, neutral expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was...fun,” he decides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitates a moment before adding: “but please wait until after my stream next time. That was really risky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can’t help but to giggle at that, making a mental note to rewatch the recording of this particular stream later, curious of how your usually calm and reserved boyfriend looked to the rest of the world who were unaware of what was happening to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Kenken,” you finally reply after your amusement has died down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your smile dies and the air shifts into something slightly more serious, more intimate, as you utter your next words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just...I originally wanted to make it a special thing—we’ve been dating for a while now but still hadn’t taken our relationship to the ‘next level’ despite living together so I was feeling restless and you didn’t seem to have any interest…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma averts his gaze, golden eyes focused on something in the distance as he seems to contemplate his next words carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m...sorry if I didn’t pick up on things. You know I’ve never really done things like that...it's not something I’ve really thought about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your expression visibly falls at that as a dark feeling evades your chest and your gaze falls down at your hands in your lap. Your own boyfriend doesn’t even think about having sex with you...are you not attractive to him? Is he asexual? Did you accidentally push him too far today?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His soft voice interrupts your thoughts before they can cause you any more anxiety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was really nice, though...I wouldn’t mind trying it again someday—if you want to—and...I want to return the favor as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you look up his eyes are already on you, expression earnest, and you can’t help but to smile brightly at him. He returns your smile with a small one of his own, one hand shifting over to gently grasp your hand in his own and lightly squeeze, his own way of showing affection. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Reciprocation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Life has been busy lately so this is being posted much later than I had planned. I sincerely apologize to the people I had originally told this would be posted a few weeks ago.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kenma sighs as he checks the time on his phone for the umpteenth time between mindlessly tapping away at a mobile game. There are still nearly ten minutes before class starts, the wait a minor inconvenience only heightened by the fact today happens to be the day Kenma accidentally left for class earlier than he meant to. Waiting for a few minutes in a classroom alone was fine, however, it seems several other students had also arrived early, putting him on edge. Everyone sits as spread out as they can in the small classroom with a few clusters of friends speaking in hushed whispers but Kenma had immediately taken out his phone and earphones the second he sat down in an attempt to look busy and minimize the chances of anyone talking to him. Although his social skills have certainly improved since high school, he is still an introvert who prefers not to socialize if he doesn’t have to.</p><p>Mere seconds before he can defeat the pixelated boss on his screen, an email notification pops up with the name of his professor. He clicks it immediately to open the message, a few other students seeming to do the same on their own devices. </p><p>
  <em> Dear students,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I apologize for the late notice but I am feeling under the weather and unable to make it today. Class for today is cancelled and your essay deadline will be extended accordingly.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Kind regards,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dr. Yanai </em>
</p><p>Several groans immediately fill the room as students vocalize their complaints of wasted time and last minute announcements. Kenma releases a small huff of annoyance himself before slinging his bag over his shoulder and making his way out of the classroom. The moment he is outside of the classroom and in an empty hall, safe from the prying eyes of his peers, he feels much more comfortable.</p><p>The trip back to the apartment is short, a mere five minutes of walking with a ten minute train ride in between, one of the benefits of living in the Tokyo metropolis. On the train, he briefly considers messaging you that he is on his way, perhaps even asking if you would like him to pick anything up for you. In the end he decides against it, figuring his presence will just be a little surprise. You are probably busy anyway, studying for your own classes and whatnot like the diligent student you are. </p><p>The moment he steps into the apartment he is greeted by familiar warmth, a welcome change to the chilly October winds outside. He removes his bag and toes off his shoes, golden eyes darting around the vacant living room as he notes your lack of presence at the coffee table where you usually study. You’re probably in the bedroom, he reasons, maybe treating yourself to a nice nap.</p><p>He quietly shuffles towards the slightly cracked door in the back, hoping not to disturb your sleep while attempting to check on you. However, a few steps before he can reach the door, he hears a distinct sound. He immediately stills, not even daring to breathe as he listens in. </p><p>Maybe he imagined it, he reasons, maybe it was that one persistent neighborhood cat outside—then it comes again, this time loud and clear. Unmistakable. </p><p>Your moan.</p><p>Kenma swears he feels every cell in his body buzzing to life as his sympathetic nervous system activates, ready for fight or flight. It is in that moment that his brain very helpfully reminds him, in vivid detail, of the events that had taken place just several weeks ago. Events that involved you, on your knees, with your pretty lips wrapped around his—</p><p>Kenma derails that train of thought before can add to his already mounting list of problems, particularly the one in his pants. </p><p>He takes a deep breath to calm himself, closing his eyes to allow himself to focus on assessing the situation. He is in his apartment—the apartment he shares with you—but you are unaware he is home and the chances that you are currently pleasuring yourself just beyond the door he stands less than a meter away from are high, <em> astronomically </em>so. </p><p>Despite his low sex drive, masturbation is not a foreign concept to him. Occasionally he has his own urges, especially in the early years of high school when his hormones were at their peak. He had always dealt with them reluctantly, like a chore, and only when he was absolutely sure his family was out of the house or you were at class, far from the apartment. What <em> is </em> a foreign concept to him, however, is <em> you </em>masturbating. </p><p>The two of you have lived together for nearly six months now and have dated for even longer. He assumed he had more or less seen every aspect of your habits and routines and you his. He has seen you dressed in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower. He has seen your unwashed face and tangled hair first thing in the morning. He knows what time you usually woke up on the weekends and how many hours you can spend lazing around on the couch binging YouTube videos. He thought he knew everything there was to know about what you do in your day-to-day life—but based on the salacious sounds coming from your shared bedroom now, it seems he still has much to learn. </p><p>He should probably leave. </p><p>The thought immediately strikes him as the most logical next course of action. Although you are the most confident person he knows, rarely keeping secrets or shying away from anything sexual (memories of that night threaten to distract him again but he holds fast), the fact you are doing this at the time he is usually in class is enough of a sign that this is a private affair you do not want him to be a part of. </p><p>He knows this and he respects your privacy but…</p><p>...he doesn’t move a centimeter. </p><p>A distant part of Kenma’s brain recalls stories of Pandora’s box: the prospect of knowledge so tempting that even the wisest men can’t resist. The rest of his brain imagines <em> you. </em> He is suddenly so deeply curious: what exactly are you doing to yourself? What types of scenarios are you thinking about while your hands move across your body, touching yourself in familiar motions you’ve learned from years of self-exploration? Are you even using your hands or do you have <em> devices?  </em></p><p>
  <em> Are you thinking about him?  </em>
</p><p>Kenma’s breath hitches at the thought. You, someone years ahead of him in terms of experience, someone who has so casually touched <em>him</em> in ways he hadn’t even imagined before—is it possible for you to think of him doing things like that to you? Do you have some vision of him, one much more familiar with a woman’s body than his true self, that lives in your imagination and only comes forth in your times of need to satisfy you in all the ways you desire most?</p><p>The thought should probably make him jealous, maybe a little insecure, but instead it only fuels his curiosity even further and he is stepping forward before he can stop himself.</p><p>In a video game, it is important to know your opponent. You read guides and tips from other players, learning the enemy’s weaknesses and what weapons are strongest against them. </p><p>This is no different, Kenma reasons. He should know what it takes to win, to provide for you the pleasure you so selflessly gave him before. </p><p>It’s the “good boyfriend” thing to do, he reasons as he presses his hand to the door, gently widening the crack just enough to peer inside. </p><p>The sight that greets him punches the air from his lungs. He thinks even the most creative imagination and hours of thinking could have prepared him for this view, the view of you so dutifully pleasuring yourself. </p><p>The very first thing his eyes land on is your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut tightly and brows slightly pinched in what he can only assume is the results of equal parts pleasure and concentration. Your cheeks are flushed and your soft lips parted to release soft pants and the occasional moan. The signs of exertion on your features make him realize you must have been doing this for <em> a while </em> and the thought sends a jolt of pleasure straight to his own groin. Greedily, his eyes rake down your body slowly, noting the thin sheen of sweat on your skin and how you seem to have so <em> generously </em> stripped yourself completely bare in preparation for your session. Some slightly darker part of his mind suggests perhaps you <em> wanted </em>him to find you like this. That’s totally impossible, he tells himself, there’s no way you would have known that his class would be cancelled and he would be home early. But the idea still excited him.</p><p>Finally, his heated gaze moves further south until it lands on the space between your thighs where your hands move diligently. Your right hand rests on top of your pelvis, allowing your middle finger to circle your clit rapidly while your left hand is lower, nearly obscuring his view as you work your index and middle fingers in and out of yourself at a rapid pace. Your fingers are wet, glistening with your juices, and now that the door is open wider, he realizes he can hear the soft squelching that accompanies your actions. Kenma thinks it is his new favorite sound. </p><p>His golden eyes remain locked on your wet pussy, taking in the movements of you fingering yourself open, motions practiced and smooth like a well oiled machine even as the muscles of your inner thighs tremble and incomprehensible mumbles leave your lips. Kenma is vaguely aware of the fact he’s completely hard now as he stands at the doorway watching you like a creep but he can’t be bothered to care when the only thoughts running through his mind are if you’re going to cum soon and if so how <em> pretty </em>of a mess is your little pussy going to make all over your sheets.</p><p>He is so hyper-focused on the sight of you fingering yourself that he fails to notice when you soft sounds halt with a much sharper gasp. What he <em> does </em>notice however, is that your hands have stopped moving, fingers stock still halfway inside of you. For a moment he wonders if you’ve reached your orgasm but his body seems to catch up much faster than his thoughts. He hed snaps up to find your own wide eyes staring back at him, cheeks flushed in a little more than pleasure. </p><p>For a long moment, neither of you speak. You stare each other down like two equally afraid small animals, not even daring to breathe, before you seem to come to your senses and withdraw your hands to snap your legs closed.</p><p>“K-Kenma, I didn’t know you were—I’m sorry—” </p><p>You’re flustered, tongue stumbling over words as your hands fumble for the blanket to cover yourself up. It is a small surprise to him. The same girl who was so daringly on her knees to pleasure him in the middle of a stream is now apologizing for <em> him </em>watching her private moment, uninvited. He doesn’t like this, he realizes. He doesn’t like you looking so embarrassed and ashamed—he much preferred the shameless vixen from before. </p><p>Before you can properly cover yourself, Kenma is taking  steady steps towards the bed, not stopping until he is hovering at the end of the bed, centimeters from your bare feet. You look up at him in question. You expected him to leave the room once you saw him. You have no idea how long he had been there, standing in the doorway—but you think it couldn’t have been long. Your boyfriend has no sex drive, no interest in sex, and certainly no interest in seeing you masturbating on your shared bed like some desperate horny, teengaer. You can’t imagine that he would have been actually <em> watching </em> you. You expect him to scurry away with flushed cheeks. You expect him to murmur a few apologies. You expect him to refuse to meet your eyes for the next month and a half. What you do <em> not </em>expect are the words that fall from his lips as he stares steadily down at you. </p><p>“Can I return the favor now?” </p><p>His gaze doesn’t waver as he watches the plethora of emotions flicker across your face. You very obviously were not expecting him to be so forward, but he can tell by the recognition in your eyes that you know exactly what he is referring to. You hesitate, and for a brief moment he feels his heart being gripped by anxiety. What if he was <em> too </em> forward? What if he read the situation wrong? Just because you did <em> that </em> to him <em> once </em>doesn’t necessarily mean you’re ready or want him to do anything to you. </p><p>Before he can get too caught up in his own thoughts and start apologizing for even suggesting in, you give him a small nod. He wastes no time. </p><p>Kenma drops to his knees on the bed, gently rocking your body on the mattress. His warm, slightly sweaty hands take one knee in each and he briefly looks up at you again <em> just to make sure </em>before you give your consent and he’s gently prying your legs apart. That captivating sight between your thighs is revealed to him once again and he swears he feels himself starting to salivate. Somehow, it looks even better up close. </p><p>Kenma doesn’t even realize he’s staring, hands frozen at their spot on your knees, until you speak. </p><p>“Please touch me, Kenma,” you nearly whine.</p><p>He swallows thickly and follows your request without complaint. Kenma is fairly certain he would do anything you told him to do if you said it in that soft, airy voice you just used. </p><p>His hands slowly slide down your inner thighs, gentle against the soft skin. Your skin prickles into goosebumps under his touch and it makes him feel slightly less insecure about how clammy he knows his hands are. His left hand stills on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your center, while his right hand makes the first moves. </p><p>He merely brushes the outside of your labia with his thumb at first, slightly at awe with just how <em> soft </em>every part of you feels. He’s hyper aware of your responses as well. The way your muscles slightly tremble and twitch under his touches do not escape him and with each reaction he feels a little more confident. He moves his thumb over, just lightly swiping at the pink nub peeking out from between your folds, still sticky from your previous activities. The reaction he receives from that is the best yet. </p><p>Your thigh tenses under his left hand while your hips buck, a soft mewl escaping your lips. Kenma quickly realizes he wants to see more. He wants to see every reaction your body has to offer him and memorize what types of touches you like the most. </p><p>Growing more confident, Kenma slides his left hand down, hooking his thumbs into the plush skin of your folds only to pull them apart, revealing your rosy depths to his gaze. Thin strings of your arousal briefly stretch with the movement, connecting your parted folds before promptly breaking off. </p><p>His eyes slip closed as he dips down to have a taste</p><p>The moment his hot tongue connects with your sensitive skin, you’re throwing your head back into the pillows, back arching with a moan. Without thinking, one of your hands reaches down to weave into his dark roots. </p><p>He moves his tongue slowly up and down your slit at first, interested in just savoring your unique taste. After a few swipes his focus is back on your pleasure and he focuses his tongue on the small hole. He swirls around it a few times, enjoying the way it moves, clenching and unclenching around nothing as if begging him to enter, Who is he to turn down such an invitation?</p><p>He presses in firmly, met with little resistance as his wet appendage slides inside. Your grip on his hair tightens, nearly painful, but it only encourages him further, thrashing inside of you and slurping messily as he enjoys the sounds of your mewls. His tongue moves without rhythm, simply exploring the new territory. The unpredictability keeps you on high alert, sensitive to his touch in a way you could never achieve just on your own. Virgin or not, Kenma reminds you how much he hates to lose with every lash of his tongue. </p><p>The hand not buried in his locks slides down your body to reach your neglected clitoris (?) but the moment your fingers make contact, he is pulling away to push your hand away. You whine, fully ready to chastise your boyfriend for stopping his ministrations but he is going back in before you can complain. This time his lips are attaching to the hard nub between your fold you had previously been reaching for. The squeal of his name gives him a sudden surge of pride that has him feeling more confident. </p><p>“You taste so good,” he mumbles against your skin. </p><p>The vibrations send waves of pleasure that have your hips stuttering in his hold and you nearly choke on your own tongue when he pushes his middle finger inside of you without warning. The digit sinks down to the knuckle, your gummy walls greedily sucking him in. He wastes no time pumping the digit in and out of you, taking note of the sounds you make with each movement. He savors the gasp that escapes your lips when he pushes in a second finger, the whines when he twists the digits inside of you and, most of all, the high pitched squeals when he adjusts the angle of his thrusts to hit a particularly soft spot deep inside of you. </p><p>Your brain feels as if it is absolute mush and you can not find it in yourself to care about the trail of drool steadily escaping your lips and staining the pillow beneath your head. However, Kenma does not fare much better. With each rock of your hips and soft sighs of his name, Kenma finds his own hips desperately moving, grinding shamelessly against the mattress. His own cock is leaking, leaving his sweatpants feeling messy but he hardly cares when he feels how your pussy is tightening so mercilessly around his fingers, clitoris throbbing against his tongue. </p><p>The heat in your stomach reaches a fevered pitch and your legs reflexively clamp down around the eager head between your thighs. Every part of your body seems to be squeezing him—your fist in his hair threatening to rip the strands from the roots, your thighs nearly crushing his skull, and your slick cavern sucking his fingers in as if to devour them. He feels as if he might die like this, trapped between your legs with his fingers inside of you and tongue glued to your nub. He doesn’t mind a bit, he realizes, he can’t think of a better way to go. </p><p>
  <em> “K-Kenma—ah—I’m gonna cum…!”  </em>
</p><p>The announcement only motivates him to redouble his efforts, lips wrapping around your clit to suck harshly while his fingers piston inside of you to fight the resistance of your tight heat. </p><p>With a final cry you fall over the edge. Your vision momentarily swims as every cell in your body seems overcome with a wave of white hot pleasure. Kenma’s own hips stutter at your voice, reaching his own messy end in his pants as he helps you ride out your orgasm. His movements become gentle, your spasming insides massaging his fingers until your legs weakly start kicking at him. You have become too sensitive, even his lightest touches making your hips jolt. He pulls away obediently, mouth releasing your clit with a soft <em>'pop' </em>as he slides his drenched fingers out of you.</p><p>The two of you spend a few minutes in silence aside from soft pants as you catch your breaths and organize your thoughts. </p><p>Kenma vaguely realizes the air feels completely different now that his brain is no longer clouded by lust. The desperation and shamelessness are gone—and yet something else has changed, something bigger. Kenma recognizes the familiar sense of newfound confidence within himself. While he was never insecure about your relationship per se, there had always been an invisible barrier he never dared to cross—an edge of the game. He assumed he was not coded for things like this and thus never explored the possibility.</p><p>But now...now he knows it is not only possible but rather <em> fun </em> as well. He never imagined it was possible to experience pleasure just from pleasuring someone else. Excitement fills him—this is only the first time, surely there will be an infinite number of “next times” in the future, each of which will be slightly different. Maybe he can get you to cum with just his tongue. Maybe he can use more fingers. Maybe your body can be bent in different positions so he can reach that spot deep inside of you that makes you let out such <em> pretty sounds. </em>Maybe he can use something else in you, something bigger and harder and more than eager to experience that tight heat he felt on his fingers—</p><p>For the first time, Kenma thinks real life may be more fun than a video game.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Stockings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em> Fuck, </em>it’s cold!” </p><p>You curse under your breath as you rub your legs together underneath the blanket, desperate for any semblance of warmth in the freezing apartment. With the arrival of winter, Tokyo has steadily gotten colder and colder each day. Despite wearing your thickest pair of fleece pajamas and cocooning yourself in a bundle of thick blankets on the couch, you feel gooseflesh lining your slightly trembling legs. Each time you accidentally brush your feet against your shins underneath the blankets you recoil from the frostiness of your own toes. </p><p>At your limit, you snatch your cell phone off the coffee table to open the Amazon app, intending to buy a pair of thermal tights to be express shipped. </p><p>Instead, your eyes land on a conveniently placed advertisement on the home page. </p><p>
  <em> Extra Warm Fuzzy Thigh High Stockings 3 Pack for Women </em>
</p><p>Immediately enticed by the words “extra warm” you click on the image. The page loads to reveal a variety of colors to choose from along with some product information about the material and a satisfaction guarantee. You scroll down to read a few reviews, almost all citing positive experiences and expressing surprise to find how “cozy and warm” the stockings are despite their low price.</p><p>Thoroughly persuaded, you quickly select a set of versatile colors before using the one-click “Buy Now” feature. </p><p>Just as you receive the notification of an order confirmation email, you hear the front door of the apartment open before your boyfriend tiredly shuffles inside. </p><p>“Sorry I’m late,” Kenma murmurs, slightly struggling to shrug off his thick puffer coat. “Yoshida-san wanted to talk again…”</p><p>You laugh at that, recalling just how talkative the elderly lady from two doors down tends to be. Once the woman finds someone willing to listen to her rambling, she can go on for hours about topics ranging from her own life story to what types of seasonal fruit her grandchildren like. You can very clearly picture your awkward boyfriend, feeling too guilty to interrupt as Yoshida-san complains about the local markets increasing the price of eggs for thirty minutes. </p><p>“You need to be more selfish, KenKen,” you chastise playfully as you hop up off the couch to help him with removing the complicated layers of winter outerwear from his person. </p><p>“Tell people what you want to and don’t want to do. Yoshida-san would understand; you’re a full-time student and eboy, you’re busy.”</p><p>Kenma shoots you a disgusted look at your favorite way to refer to his streaming career to which you only cackle. With a few calculated tugs, you manage to remove his coat and hang it on the rack beside the door.<br/>
“Anyway, I’ll go ahead and call for dinner—I was thinking we could get sukiyaki and watch a movie for tonight,” you suggest, already making a beeline for your phone.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>The rest of the night is spent comfortably for you two, cuddled up on the couch while you both eat warm soup and watch a fantasy movie Kenma picked out. You hardly have any interest in the contents on the screen but you relish in the warmth provided by both the food and your boyfriend. </p>
<hr/><p>You all but forget about your Amazon order until two days later when Kenma comes home with a cardboard box in his hands.</p><p>“It says it's for you,” Kenma says simply, handing the box over to where you sit on the couch. </p><p>Your brows furrow in confusion for a moment before the realization hits and you nearly tear the box apart in your excitement to open it. Kenma lingers to the side, seeming curious about what could garner such a reaction from you. With your university student budget, it is rare that you buy anything outside of necessities and an unhealthy amount of take-out, so you are unsurprised by Kenma’s apparent curiosity. </p><p>You grin as you pull the neatly folded pile of multi-colored soft material from the opened box, holding them in the air for him to see.</p><p>“It's my new thigh highs! I was tired of feeling like I was in danger of getting frostbite in our own apartment.”</p><p>You drop all but a pair of striped pink ones back into the box and quickly shift to try them on, oblivious to how Kenma’s curious gaze has morphed into something akin to mild horror. The material glides easily up your bare legs, stopping just above mid thigh. </p><p>“<em> Ooh— </em>they’re so soft,” you cheer, standing up to test their slipperiness on the wooden floors. Kenma swallows thickly from his post, eyes lingering on where your plush thighs slightly spill over the tops of the stockings. </p><p>He nearly goes into cardiac arrest when you lift your right leg in his direction, toes unintentionally mere centimeters from his crotch. </p><p>“Feel them, they’re super fuzzy!” </p><p>Kenma shies from the innocent brightness in your eyes and shuffles backwards bindly, nearly running into the wall in his haste to leave.</p><p>“I actually have to film something right now—sorry.”</p><p>With the firm shut of his office door, you find yourself standing alone, leg still raised dumbly before your balance falters and you quickly set it down. You can only blink for a few seconds, thoroughly thrown off by the rapid series of events you just experienced. Eventually, you just shrug, writing the exchange off as Kenma being his weird, gamer boy self and set to working on your own homework. </p><p>You don’t suspect anything until the next day. </p><p>As usual, you wake up before your boyfriend. You spend a few extra minutes in bed, enjoying the comfortable warmth and silently cooing over Kenma’s sleeping face from where he’s curled up at your side. Eventually though, the desire for breakfast wins out and you quietly slip out of bed. The cold floor nips at your feet as you tip-toe out of the room. You make a detour to the living room where you left the package overnight, pink and white striped socks strewn haphazardly over the couch from when you removed them before bed. Deciding to switch it up, you pick a pair of solid black thigh highs from the box, slipping them on and hopping to the kitchen, legs sufficiently warm beneath your oversized sleep shirt.</p><p>You lose yourself to the familiar motions of making breakfast, cracking eggs and mixing batter while your hips sway to a rhythm you make up in your head. Halfway through flying your second egg, you hear the bedroom door behind you open, signaling Kenma’s emergence. </p><p>“Good morning,” you sing-song, well aware Kenma is far from a “morning person.” </p><p>“Do you want your pancakes plain or chocolate chip? We’re out of blueberries.” </p><p>You bend down to retrieve a clean dish from the bottom of the dishwasher, rummaging for a few moments before finding two decently sized ones. You return to your full height and plate the eggs before realizing the pancake batter is still sitting in its bowl, waiting, and Kenma has still not responded to your question nor did you hear him leave. You twist your torso around to look over your shoulder, briefly considering maybe he hadn’t heard you properly. </p><p>Unsurprisingly, Kenma is still awkwardly standing right in front of the bedroom door, seeming to not have taken more than a step beyond the threshold. However, his gaze seems locked on something, eyes wide and pupils dilated not unlike a cat staring at a laser. You follow his line of sight only to land on your own thighs, clad only in a pair of black thigh highs.</p><p>The gears shift and it clicks all at once.</p><p>A grin sinister enough to rival the Grinch spreads across your face. </p><p>“Enjoying the view, KenKen~?” You taunt, coyly pointing your toe so the muscles of your calves and thighs flex under the material. </p><p>Kenma finally tears his eyes from your legs to meet your eyes, seeming conflicted between annoyance and embarrassment. With red ears, Kenma turns on his heels and walks unusually quickly towards the bathroom, mumbling something about taking a shower. </p><p>“Wait—you never told me what type of pancakes you want!”</p><p>The only answer you receive is the slam of a door. </p>
<hr/><p>For the rest of morning you take full advantage of Kenma’s newfound interest in your thigh high stockings. You brush against him at any opportunity: claiming you need something from the cabinet right behind him when he’s in the kitchen, conveniently dropping pens and pencils right in front of him when he sits on the couch so that you have to bend over to pick them up. With each action, Kenma gets more and more flustered and vocal with his complaints, well aware of what exactly you are doing. Regardless of his harsh words, the pink on his cheeks is too cute to resist so you keep doing it up until you’re forced to leave for classes. </p><p>By the time you come back from campus, the sun is long gone and the apartment is silent save for Kenma’s mumbled voice in the back room where he speaks to the viewers of his stream. For once, you prefer it.</p><p>Kicking off the jeans you had hastily slid on over your black stockings and settling into bed you have only one thing on your mind: the essay your professor had so graciously surprised your class with, claiming the topic was “easy” and therefore could be finished and submitted “before midnight.” </p><p>“Easy my ass,” you mutter bitterly, pulling open your laptop. </p><p>The hours melt away with the inconsistent clacking on your keyboard as you set to researching and writing your assignment. While actually spitting out a 500 word essay had been easier than expected, many of the arguments felt weak and you found conflicting information in a few of your sources, forcing you to spend extra time editing your work. </p><p>You are so lost in your reading that you hardly notice the sudden silence from the other room until the bedroom door opens. You spare Kenma a momentary glance and mumbled greeting before your eyes are immediately back on the lengthy Wikipedia page on your screen, small text nearly blurring together under your tired eyes. </p><p>Unbeknownst to you, Kenma stands idly at the door for several minutes while you read, eyes roving over your disheveled, stressed form before landing on your thighs where you rest your laptop. In Kenma’s mind, it is when you are least trying that you look the most alluring. Wordlessly, he moves forward. </p><p>You startle when you feel the mattress shift beneath you, looking up at Kenma in mild alarm as he crawls into bed. You try to focus on your work again, half-heartedly announcing that you’re busy. </p><p>But Kenma doesn’t listen. </p><p>A soft pair of lips connect with your cheek, sending shivers down your body at the unexpected sensation. Your cheeks flush, unused to Kenma initiating physical contact so directly. </p><p>“Kenma—I can’t, I have an essay—”</p><p>You complaint fall on deaf ears as he continues leaving soft pecks along your cheeks, steadily increasing in their frequency and moving lower. </p><p>Your pulse flutters as his lips press against your jaw. He moves feverishly, seeming almost in a frenzy as he kisses down the column of your neck, only pausing when he reaches the collar of your sweater. </p><p>“You look so pretty right now,” he whispers airily. </p><p>You want to disagree. You’re unshowered and bare-faced after a full day of classes with your hair thrown in a messy style—no part of that is conventionally “pretty.” </p><p>But the way Kenma is looking at you, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, and a soft flush on his face as if mesmerized has you unable to utter a word of dissent. All previous inhibitions are forgotten as you set your laptop to the side, not even bothering to save your draft.</p><p>Instead, you grasp the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. </p><p>Having left in a rush not to be late earlier, you had forgone your bra—but Kenma hardly minds. His gaze immediately zones into your exposed breasts. Briefly, his eyes flicker up to meet your own as if silently asking permission, to which you nod, before he returns his attention to your chest, brushing one pale hand up your side before firmly cupping your breast. </p><p>He marvels at their softness for a few minutes, alternating between cupping and lightly pressing into the supple flesh. Some distant part of his mind suggests the feeling is similar to mochi but he thinks better of sharing the childish thought aloud. Instead, he puts his mouth to better use. </p><p>You sharply inhale when Kenma suddenly ducks down without warning, his tongue swiping over your right nipple while his thumb flicks the other. He envelops the bud in his hot mouth, lightly sucking while his fingers begin pinching. The sensations seem to shoot down your spine straight to your core and your squirm at his ministrations, gently fisting his hair when he switches sides.</p><p>Eventually he releases your nipples with an audible <em> pop </em>to press kisses on the underside of your breast instead. His lips brush against your flesh and he slowly makes his way down, pausing to brush his wet tongue on the edge of your belly button in a way that makes you squirm. His hands abandon your chest in favor of your hips where his fingers slip under the sides of your panties. He glances up, lips just barely ghosting your skin as he murmurs, “can I take them off?” </p><p>Your throat feels much too dry to produce any comprehensible sound so you simply nod. He wastes no time rolling the thin material down your thighs as you assist in eagerly kicking them off. You make a move to remove your last remaining clothing, your soft black thigh high stockings, but Kenma quickly grabs your hands to stop you. Confused, you look up to meet his gaze only to find his cheeks dusted pink as he avoids your eyes. </p><p>“I…want you to keep them on.”</p><p>You can’t contain the giggles that bubble up at his admission, only increasing when he visibly pouts. Your amusement dies down as Kenma’s hands move to your shoulders, gently pushing. Obediently, you let your back fall onto the soft bed while Kenma settles directly between your spread thighs, hands supporting his weight on either side of your waist. </p><p>You watch as he looks over you, golden eyes flitting across your body almost methodically, as if he is assessing a challenging puzzle in a game. The comparison makes your body feel warm and you resist the urge to squirm under his stare. </p><p><em> It is far from your first time—you shouldn’t be the nervous one here </em>, you scold. </p><p>At last, Kenma nods to himself, as if silently making a final decision before he lowers himself again. A pair of soft lips brush against the hood of your clit in a peck that has your muscles tensing and a mewl getting caught in your throat. Kenma presses a few more light, soft kisses around your vulva before his uses the thumbs of both hands to properly spread your lips open. You’re almost embarrassed by how much wetness you can feel beginning to leak out but all thoughts are rendered obsolete the moment Kenma pushes his tongue into you, earnestly and without hesitation. His increase in confidence since the night he had “returned the favor” is clear in his every movement. His tongue twists in ways he remembers you had particularly liked with the occasional new experimentation as well, alternating between firmly massaging your walls with the tip and thrusting in and out in a mimicry of what he intends to do with his cock later. </p><p>Just the thought of his cock experiencing the heat currently engulfing his tongue has him groaning into you, making your own voice keen at the vibrations. </p><p>He releases his tongue from inside of you to wrap his lips around your clit instead, sucking while the middle finger of his right hand pushes into you. The insertion has you nearly breathless as he manages to reach a place deep inside of you—much deeper than your own fingers could. As a former volleyball player and current gamer, it is no surprise that Kenma has long, deleterious fingers but to feel them in action leaves your heart pounding in your chest as you greedily rock your hips against him. </p><p>He eventually adds his ring finger, the resistance minimal with how wet you have become. His other hand moves to grip your meaty thigh, fingertips just barely slipping beneath the fabric of your stockings. </p><p>You can quickly feel your release building. Kenma seems set on having you cum on his fingers as quickly as possible as well, flicking at your clit with the tip of his tongue while he pushes in a third finger, never once faltering in his pace. It is when he unexpectedly curls his fingers inside of you, hooking into a squishy spot that your vision blurs and every muscle in your body tenses with your orgasm. </p><p>Kenma diligently helps you ride it out, continuing to finger you and suckle at your clit until your legs draw up, attempting to push him away. Kindly, he pulls away. You take a moment to collect yourself but it seems all for naught when you catch the way Kenma brings his sticky fingers, utterly drenched in your release, to his own mouth and licks them clean without a second thought. Despite the fact he had just eaten you out, something about watching him suck your essence off his own fingers feels decidedly filthy and leaves you more turn on than you were before you came. </p><p>Kenma removes his fingers from his mouth once he deems them “clean” though they now shine with the remnants of his own saliva. He moves his hands to rest on your raised knees and carefully searches your face for any negative response. </p><p>“Do you want to keep going?”</p><p>He asks softly but purposefully, fully prepared to stop if you suddenly aren’t up for it anymore. The consideration makes your chest swell and you grin. </p><p>“Yeah,” you answer, sitting up slightly only to hook your fingers in the waistline of his track pants, “take these off.”</p><p>His cheeks flame at your forwardness but he obediently hooks his own thumbs into the pants and slides them down, carelessly kicking them off to some corner of the room. Unsurprisingly, Kenma didn’t bother wearing underwear but you hardly mind (<em> easy access, y’know? </em>) and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his pretty dick, bobbling slightly with his movements and dripping a copious amount of pre-cum, just like on that first night you sucked him. </p><p>He settles between your hips and you return to your previous laid back pose to form a textbook perfect missionary position. One of his hands slides up your leg before finding a good place under your thigh to grab and hold your leg open while his other grabs his cock to position himself. The first brush of his head against your sticky folds sends a shiver through both of you and his grip on you tightens almost painfully. </p><p>“Can I...put it inside?”</p><p>“Yes, Kozume, please,” you respond breathlessly. </p><p>You’re far too impatient to bother being embarrassed by your apparently eagerness though Kenma flusters at your plea. He lines himself up carefully before finally pressing forward. </p><p>You gasp at the stretch, trying your best not to tense up as he slowly forces his way inside. You can hardly remember the last time you had someone inside of you—it must have been a while before you had even met Kenma—and his girth feels well above average. He keeps pressing until he bottoms out, hips flush against your ass, and he has to physically pause to catch his breath as he adjusts to the brand new sensation of being inside of someone. His minds feels foggy and slow, like your pussy holds the power to make him go dumb. His length feels like it’s burning in your hot insides, soaked and massaged by your pulsating walls. He is positive this is one of the greatest experiences of his life. </p><p>It only gets better when you hesitantly rock your hips against him, creating a friction he didn’t realize he so desperately craved. You mewl at the sensation, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and forcing him to press closer to you, chests nearly touching. Kenma steels himself, adjusting his hands to grip at either side of your hips before he slowly pulls almost all the way out only to sink back in again to the hilt. </p><p>He feels your walls sucking at him, threatening not to let him leave every time he partially withdraws and he’s pretty sure it's causing him to make some extremely embarrassing sounds he’ll regret later.</p><p>In contrast, you revel in the soft <em> ‘ah’ </em>s and sharp gasps he releases against your neck every time he thrusts inside of you. You experimentally clench around him just to hear the whine he makes in response, hips involuntarily stuttering. </p><p>“<em> Ngh... </em>feels good,” he huffs into your ear. </p><p>You moan your agreement, pressing soft kisses into his neck. His speed steadily increases, your wetness producing a distinct <em> squelch </em>with each thrust. It is quickly devolving into something messy, imperfect by filled with love nonetheless and every nerve in your body feels as if inflamed, burning you until you are no longer yourself but something new—something that is both you and Kenma. </p><p>It is as your second orgasm is rapidly approaching and your limbs are seizing up, forcing Kenma to reach even deeper inside of you that you realize why it feels so different from the other times, why you felt so nervous before.</p><p>It’s the first time you’ve been fucked by someone you truly love. </p><p>With a stammer of Kenma’s name, you cum. </p><p>You spasming walls prove too much for him and he follows quickly, thrusts losing all semblance of rhythm as he releases inside of you. You feel him deep inside, the head of his twitching cock centimeters from the entrance of your womb where he cums, filling you with warmth. Idly, you realize there’s a lot of it—likely the result of Kenma’s first time cumming inside of someone. It fills you to a brim, some of it escaping and sliding down his own spent length until it drips onto the sheets in a sticky mess. </p><p>All strength seems to leave his body and Kenma collapses on top of you, head buried into your neck and chests sticking together. The room is silent for several minutes aside from panting as the two of you catch your breaths. </p><p>When the two of you recover, Kenma is surprisingly the first to speak. </p><p>His voice sounds nervous, slightly hesitant and he refuses to make eye contact as he asks, “was that okay?” </p><p>Every inch of his appearance screams insecure and the sight tugs at your heart strings. You know he is worried he won’t compare to your previous boyfriends, feeling inadequate due to his own lack of experience. You quickly work to amend that. </p><p>“It was great,” you answer honestly, offering a bright smile. “You’re amazing, Kenma.” </p><p>The redness of his cheeks is almost comical but a wide smile stretches across his lips and when he meets your gaze his eyes seem to be nearly sparkling in happiness.</p><p>Your heart stutters in your chest. </p><p>“I love you,” he whispers, voice full of adoration.</p><p>“I love you too,” you respond, curling into his side.</p><p>You nearly purr when his arms immediately snake around your waist, pulling you closer. You’re overcome with a sense of calm, everything suddenly feeling right in the world if only for this single moment. You have never experienced this with any of your past partners; yet another piece of evidence to validate what you already know: Kenma is it for you. He’s the one. </p><p>A thought comes to mind that had your features twisting into a sinister smirk. </p><p>“Hey, KenKen...you really like my thigh highs, right?”</p><p>He stiffens beside you, instinctively knowing he’s in danger just from your tone. </p><p>“...I guess so,” he cautions, flinching when you coyly brush a clothed toe against one of his shins.</p><p>“Maybe for Christmas,” you continue, “I should get <em> you </em>a pair.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all so much for reading and leaving such nice comments, they really make my day!<br/>I hope this chapter was okay; I thoroughly enjoyed this universe and hope to come back to it some day in the near future.<br/>Thank you once again. ♥</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! I have a few ideas for future chapters but I always am open to taking suggestions and ideas. Hope you enjoyed!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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